


rA9

by xmmonia_and_bleach



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Gay Gavin Reed, Light Angst, M/M, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), RA9 - Freeform, Trans Gavin Reed, With A Twist, Work In Progress, right at the end, there might be more characters, when you'll least be expecting it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-04 06:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15835308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmmonia_and_bleach/pseuds/xmmonia_and_bleach
Summary: Every Android has gone missing. Some say it is the rapture, some say the apocalypse. Detective Gavin Reed just wants to keep to himself. But when he is assigned a certain case, he gets more involved than he could ever think.





	1. Reed

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, since this is my first fic It's probably gonna be really short and really bad. Sorry about that. But I hope you still enjoy! If you like it please comment! I'll try to reply to all of them!

"Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will be changed — in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet"  
    –1 Corinthians 15:51-52  
  
_Gavin was back in_ band _. He was playing the flute. He wasn't good at flute, in_ fact _he was shit at the flute. His eyes darted to Tina Chen, a flute play about three years below him, who actually knew her shit, so he could copy her hand positions. What was Tina doing? He couldn't focus on the specific and nuanced changes in Tina's hands. He groaned loudly. The conductor scolded him_ lou _-_  
  
_He was at home. Mother was taking a family photo outside but Gavin chose not to be in it. He had kind of drifted away recently. No lacrosse, no school awards, no family photos. Now E was in his room. What?_ No _he_ isn _-_  
  
_He is Connor, an android. He is meeting Detective Gavin Reed for the first time. Oh, that's me._ No _it's not, you are Connor, and_ android _and you are meeting Detective Gavin Reed. You say hello, but he disregards you. Why? Why did I do_ tha _-_  
  
Gavin woke with a start. What the fuck was that dream? He was in band, then E showed up, maybe. He forgot what happened after that. He got up out of bed and made himself some breakfast in his, frankly too big (thanks Kamski) kitchen. He sat down at the kitchen table and ate his toast with apricot jam as swiftly as possible. He didn't want to be late for work, especially not at a time like this.  
  
All of the androids had gone. Disappeared. In a flash, a blink of an eye. It reminded him of a bible verse from First Corinthians. That then reminded him of the Bible, then of home, then he pushed the thought out of his mind. He didn't like to think about home. Not Mother. Not E. Definitely not Father.  
  
He put in his jacket and made his way outside. He lived just outside of town, with all the rich shits. He didn't talk to his neighbours ever, as a rule. He wasn't in such a rich part of town that everyone lived miles apart (though Elijah often threatened to buy him one), so he had next door neighbours. One of them had three little brats, who of course just had to join all of the clubs and all of the extra-curricular groups they could find for them, so all he could hear most of the time was violins screeching and pianos clunking. Truly disturbing.  
  
He waited at the bus stop about half a mile down his street for maybe three minutes before the Number 32 bus showed up and took him to the precinct. He got there just as Hank rolled up in his car with Sumo. He seemed to be coping incredibly well with Connor's disappearance, but Gavin assumes that he was hiding someone broken in front of a cracking facade. He was allowed to take Sumo in after speaking to the Captain, who clearly felt sorry for him.  
  
Gavin started to walk up to Hank and got his attention.  
 "Hank!" He half-called. Hank turned and smiled when he saw Gavin walking up to him, and gave him a soft wave. "Hank, how are you?"  
 "Oh, I'm fine. Sumo's feeling a bit under the weather so I took him for a little walk before work. Had to pick up about five shits, but he's feeling better now."  
    That wasn't exactly what Gavin meant. Hank clearly wanted to avoid talking about Connor at all costs.  
 "No, I mean, how are you coping?" Gavin said quietly, trying to be discrete.  
    A single tear rolled down Hank's face, but he held his composure enough to answer.  
 "I'm managing. The old fucker didn't really do much around the house anyway." It was too much for him. He burst into tears. He fell on top of Gavin. He really couldn't put up with this shit at that point but he endured and soon the old bastard let go of him. Gavin didn't really ever like Anderson that much, but he could understand what he was feeling at that moment so he let him get on with his bullshit.  
  
After his, frankly shit, meeting with Hank, Gavin walked into the precinct. It was so quiet. It was never quiet in the precinct, at least, not before. There was no android to greet him as he walked behind the fucking giant screen separating the police force from the public; no androids standing at the side to give information about who is who and where and what is what; no Connor. Hardly any people at all. Without androids, the people kind of fell to pieces. No one could do anything. Given that literally no-one saw them disappear, that everyone was looking away at that exact moment, the fucking public decided to fuck things up for everyone fucking involved. Some people said that they were programmed to do that all along, that when no-one in the entire world was even glancing at them, when no-one cared, they just turned into nothing. Some claimed to have found puddles of blue-blood lying on the ground in their house, some said their android is still there, in their house, some said that they were behind the disappearance. But not one of them was telling the truth. They all lied. Why lie?  
  
Of course, the fucking Christians have decided that it's the Rapture, the great reckoning of God, but they were all insane from the beginning. Gavin had walked past a preacher on the street who was rambling about "God's force" (not that there were many people to ramble to, the streets are all pretty much empty) who grabbed his arm and told him that we will find God when we find the force that took the "Demons of Detroit." How fucking retarded. The androids weren't taken, they just disappeared. God didn't have a part to play in it, not that he has a part to play in anything, because, as far as Gavin could tell, he's a load of bullcrap.  
  
Gavin sat down at his desk and stared at all of the paperwork piled up to the heavens on his desk. Upset by the fact that all of it would have to be gone by the end of the day, he went to get a coffee. Tina was standing by the coffee machine getting her flat white and Gavin thought to tell her about his dream.  
 "Hey, Tina."  
 "Oh hi Gavin, what's up?"  
 "Not much. You?"  
 "Brother was admitted again yesterday."  
 "Oh what? That's terrible! I hope you're coping well" Gavin was on good grounds with Tina. They had known each other since he was in 9th Grade and she, 6th. Bandmates. Which reminded Gavin again, but he decided to keep that until later.  
 "Yeah... they say he might not survi-" She choked up "He might not survive this time." She started crying, sobbing. Great. Two for the price of three. He hugged Tina and she cried into him for about twenty seconds. When she finally let go, her coffee had gone cold.

Gavin sat back down at his desk with his coffee — black, two sugars — and started his work, making occasional conversation with his few co-workers who were there. It’s a shame that Chris stopped coming after his androids disappeared; he needed to take care of his boy Damian, only about a year old. In fact, his birthday was in about three weeks. Gavin made a mental note to get something for the little guy. Other than Chris and Tina, Gavin didn't really have anyone in the force he was even vaguely friendly with. He talked to the Lieutenant every now and then, but it was more professional than friendly.

 He guessed he was kind of close with Connor, but only because he stayed out of his way. He wasn't _friends_ with him, no! Just friendly. He seemed to stop being such a piece of shit after the revolution. He kinda picked up what small talk was and Gavin managed to have some interesting conversations in the break room with him. He seemed alright. But he was still just a fucking android.

 A thought left his head as quickly as it had come and he hardly thought about it for the rest of the day. Instead, he worked through all of the paperwork stacked on his desk and helped the lieutenant with some of his. Most of the paperwork was just missing person reports for androids, presumably from people who didn't know what was going on. Gavin wrote to the people who filed the reports and told them what the situation was. Most people didn't respond well. He ignored them and told them that it couldn't be helped. They didn't like that.

 After he had finished with the missing persons he moved on to the assaults, of which there were fewer, then the attempted murders, which were in scarce numbers, to say the least, then onto the murders, which had skyrocketed recently. Most of the victims were people who worked for cyberlife or people who worked in cyberlife stores, as people thought they had been confiscated by officials. Dumb shits. He’d have to check out some of the crime scenes the next day. But for now, he needed a new coffee.

 He re-filled his mug ([ his favourite one ](https://www.amazon.com/Meow-Motherfucker-Coffee-Mug-Black/dp/B06XK7SYD1)) and just as he sat back down at his desk he heard the captain’s voice from his office

 “Reed! My office, now.” Gavin hated going into Fowler’s office. It smelled of lavender, because of that stupid scent blender thing in his office. He sat there for a moment, hoping that if he didn't think about it, it would go away, but he was wrong.

 “When I say now, I do mean NOW.” Gavin slowly rose from his seat and turned to walk towards the captain’s office, unwillingly, to say the least.

As he entered the captain’s office he was hit with a putrid smell. Why the fuck did he change it and why the FUCK would he change it to _jasmine?_ Jasmine, for Christ's sake. Gavin groaned loudly. The captain shot him a piercing glare and Gavin shut his mouth quickly. _Fucking jasmine!_ He thought. Fowler motioned for Gavin to sit, but he ignored him.

 “What do you want? Gavin made sure to sound aggravated.

 “All of your cases have been re-assigned. You will now work only one case.” Gavin was fucking appalled.

 “WHAT THE FUCK, JEFF?” Fowler didn't speak. “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU? I JUST WENT THROUGH EVERY SINGLE FUCKING CASE I HAVE AND IT’S FOR NOTHING? AND MIGHT I ADD, ONE GOD-DAMNED CASE? ARE YOU SHITTING ME? WHERE ARE MY CASES GOING?”

 “Lieutenant Anderson is taking your cases. I’m calling him in after you.” Gavin tried not to shout.

 “Are you kidding me, Jeff? Can’t you see that that” — he pointed at Hank through the glass — “is a broken man? He’s falling apart, for god’s sake!” The captain looked at Gavin calmly as he complained

 “I’m not arguing with you, Gavin, because we both know that I’ll win, clear your desk and give your cases to Anderson. Your new case is on the table over there.” He vaguely waves his arm in the direction of a small table on which there was a single case file. For fuck’s sake. He took it aggressively and stormed out of the office. Great. Now he smelled like jasmine. _Jasmine,_ he thought, _for fucking shit’s sake._

He gave all of his paperwork to Anderson just after he was called into Fowler's office. He was so fucking pissed. He had spent hours going through all of that. If fucking Connor were here, he’d go through that in a fucking flash. He sat at his desk, defeated. He couldn't even be fucking bothered to open the case file right in front of him. He needed to open it. A nagging voice told him to, so see what it was. He ignored it, for the moment.

When he finally succumbed to opening the file, he almost fell off his seat. It said:

 

**CONFIDENTIAL – UNAUTHORISED PERSONNEL DO NOT READ**

**MISSING PERSON: CONNOR (RK800) #313 248 317 (Taken Name: Anderson)**

 

REPORTED MISSING: JULY 19TH 2039

REPORTED MISSING BY: DETROIT POLICE DEPARTMENT.

CASE: OPEN

 

Gavin rushed into the bathroom and threw up.


	2. Kamski

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry this chapter is a bit late! School has been a bit rough this past week. But it's here now, so enjoy!

_“Hello. My name is Connor” Gavin looked him up and down as he walked over. What a weirdo._

_“Never seen an android like you before. What model are you?”_

_“RK800. I’m a prototype.” Gavin couldn’t help but be amused. A fucking prototype?_

_“A prototype?” He turned to Tina. “Android Detective.” He said, mockingly. He turned back to Connor, “So machines are gonna replace us all… is that it?” Connor didn’t speak. What a fucking dick. Gavin asked him a question; he better fucking answer it. “Hey asshole, I’m talking to you! Hey! Y’know what? Get me a coffee, dipshit.” Connor obliged and turned to the coffee machine._

_“How do you like it?” He didn’t give a shit._

_“I don’t give a shit, just get me one, and do it faster, you piece of plastic” Gavin scoffed loudly. Who’d of thought he’d actually do it? He thought he’d get to punch that tin-can fuck. Connor came back and held the coffee out for him. Gavin pushed it aside. “Do yourself a favour, and stay outta my way.” Gavin left Connor standing there. What a fucking piece of shit. That’s the last he’ll be seeing of him._

 “Uhhh, Gavin? Gavin!” Gavin looked up suddenly. He had been staring at Connor’s file for what felt like hours and clearly, Hank had gotten worried about him. “Are you okay? You look like shit.” He said.

 “Yeah, I’m fine. Just gotta keep on fucking truckin’.” Hank chuckled slightly and started coughing. He looked worse than Gavin presumed he did. And he presumed he looked pretty fucked up. Hank kept coughing. Gavin could see his eyes widen and Hank moved swiftly to the toilet. Gavin heard a cubicle door slam open. _I hope the cleaners like the stench of sick._ He thought to himself. He chuckled and returned to his work.

There was one obvious place that Gavin needed to go, and he didn’t want to go there. He had always hated that place. Father and Mother loved it there, of course. Of course. But Gavin despised it and everything it stood for. He had been there once, but he didn’t think he’d be going back so soon after Father’s death. But it was obviously the best place to start with the fucking Connor investigation, so he had to. Not that he had a choice.

It was getting late, and Gavin had been at work for about three hours too long for his liking, so he decided he had best head back home. He thought of going to check on Hank, but some other officers were already at it, and he didn’t want to be seen feeling worried about anyone, ever. Instead, he just left the precinct and got on the 32 back home.

As he sat on the bus, he saw a little girl on her own with, he assumed, her dad. He looked worried. So did she. Gavin thought about sitting with them and asking if there was something wrong, but he disregarded the thought. They would be fine. Instead, he sat on the bus, perfectly fucking alone. He got off before the girl and her Dad. That night he dreamt of his childhood cat, Whiskers. Such a shame about Whiskers.

The next morning Gavin didn’t have the energy to get up on time, so he missed the 32 and had to take the 39A to work, which only went halfway there, so he had to walk all the way from West goddamn Grand Boulevard to 3rd Avenue. Gavin fucking despised the 39A bus. All of the inside walls were a disgusting grey and, since it was a much lesser used bus, it wasn't cleaned regularly, so it was fucking revolting all the time. The worst thing, though, were the passengers. Even though there were usually only a spattering of people on the 39A, they were all pieces of shit. They yelled at the bus driver (fucking stupid seeing as it was a driverless vehicle. Clearly they were pissed out of their minds); they shouted at each other; they drank whiskey on the fucking _bus._ Who the hell does that? Gavin was always glad to get off the 39A.

When he finally arrived at work, Gavin was greeted by Chris, who was waiting outside for him.

 “Hey, how’s it going, Gavin?” Chris asked. Chris was a tall, dark-skinned man who was quite friendly. Gavin got along well with Chris, and Chris with Gavin. You could say they were ‘friends’.

 “Good, good. Had to take the fucking 39A today. Bit of a shit start to a shit day, y’know?” Chris nodded and looked sympathetic. He too understood the shitpile that is the 39A bus. “Hey, wait a minute. Why are you here?” Gavin asked. Chris looked confused.

 “What do you mean?”

 “Y’know, Damian.” Chris chuckled.

 “Oh, Damian. Yeah, I found a babysitter for him. Nice gal, to be honest.”

 “Oh, that’s great. Missed you, pal.” Gavin patted him on the shoulder and made his way into the precinct, Chris following a few paces behind, talking to another officer.

As Gavin sat down, he noticed a post-it note from Hank on his computer monitor. It said:

 

**_go to Cyberlife. bryan deckhart. ask about project._ **

**_-hank_ **

 

Fucking great. Now he had a reason to go to Cyberlife, which he obviously didn't want. He wondered who this Bryan Deckhart guy was. Gavin assumed he was who he was looking to interview. Maybe he was an important designer in Cyberlife?  He worked on a project, clearly. Maybe he was involved with Connor? Connor. He hated when Connor got into his fucking head. He didn't like thinking about Connor. Gavin stopped thinking about him and got started on his work. He decided that he’d go after his lunch. It wasn't crucial at this exact moment, after all.

Walking into the Cyberlife building was a pleasant experience for most people, especially if they get to see _the_ Elijah Kamski. _The_ Elijah Kamski, who single-handedly changed the entire fucking world. But not Gavin. He hated it there. Having everything shoved in his face made him feel like he was back at home. Such an imposing structure made him feel small and unseen. Yeah. Exactly like back at home. Alone in his room, Eli outside with Mother and Father, being the fucking star. And now here he was again, yet again casting a truly imposing shadow. A shadow so large that Gavin had never seen the light of success.

He walked up to the desk and asked the receptionist who Bryan Deckhart was and if she knew what department he was in. The woman scoffed. She was an android. Gavin could tell, even though she didn't have her LED in. She hadn't got the right sound down, but it was a good try. She had clearly practised, she just needed a little more. Another thing that he learned from Eli. How to find an android in a crowd. He’d learned this at the last fucking family Christmas dinner, just after the android revolution. Gavin wondered how Cyberlife was still in business if making new androids wasn't needed anymore. That was their main source of income after all.

 “He’s up on the twenty-ninth floor. Just to let you know, he’s a complete wreck if you ask me.” Gavin ignored her comment and thanked her. He walked toward the elevator, looking around him with malice. _Fucking Cyberlife shits_ , he thought, looking at the workers running around the ground floor. He pressed for the elevator and it arrived within fifteen seconds. Fast, for a building as tall as this. He entered the elevator and looked at a small blue stain on the ground. _That was where he stood,_ Gavin thought, _where he risked his life for his kind._ Gavin kind of respected him for that. He was brave, for an android. Gavin tried not to think much about what happened in November; it made him feel guilty.

The elevator was quick and Gavin was on the twenty-ninth floor in no time at all. The floor was smaller than the bottom floor, but it was still a moderately large floor. Gavin needed to find room 2969; the receptionist had told him the office number. he looked to his left and saw etched on a gold plate bolted to the door the number 2945 with the names of the people who worked in the office underneath; ‘Gavin Ritter, James Cooper, and Ryan Johnson,’ were the names on that office. Gavin cringed at the sight of his own name. To his right was room 2946. Harry Millar, Aidan Clark and a name Gavin couldn't make out were on that door. He was about ten doors away. Gavin walked down the hall, reading the office numbers as he went.

Room 2946 was small and cramped. There was a sea of paperwork all over the floor and computer screens took up most of Gavin’s vision when he walked in. There was a window facing downtown Detroit. It was an absolute shithole. Who could fucking work here?

 “What in the fuck?” A head popped out of a small room, – Gavin assumed the coffee room – alerted by Gavin’s entrance and profanity.

 “Hello?” The man said. He was tall and light-skinned. His hair was very black, and his appearance struck Gavin as handsome. His jawline was strong and powerful and his small hazel eyes were a complete contrast to the rest of his large face. His voice was very strange. Gavin looked at the man for about three seconds before speaking.

 “Bryan Deckhart?” He asked. The man nodded slowly and with caution.

 “That’s me.” He looked worried. He seemed to be blocking the doorway he had just come through with extreme intensity, his legs spread to each side of the door frame. Maybe he was hiding something.

 “Detective Gavin Reed with the DPD. I have some questions for you about a certain project you may or may not have worked on with your team.” Bryan suddenly grew pale. He was definitely hiding something.

 “I don't work on any projects ever! No, no, no. What project? I don't even have a team! It’s just me here, on my own! Good day Mr Reed! Bye bye!” He tried to turn back into the coffee room, but Gavin stopped him, by grabbing his shoulder. He was hysteric.

 “Stop fucking with me, Bryan.” He looked like he was going to pass out. Gavin didn't envy his situation. Clearly, he had worked on some bad shit. “Tell me what you worked on.” Gavin stared him down, trying to look intimidating. It, of course, worked.

 “Please don't tell your boss, Detective, please. I just did what he told me to do. I just did what he told me to.” Gavin needed more information; he was getting angry.

 “That’s not fucking helping anyone, is it now. Who told you to do what?” Deckhart shook his head.

 “I can't. I can't. I’m so sorry, Detective Reed, but I can't.” Gavin was fed up of the bullshit.

 “FOR FUCK’S SAKE! WHO TOLD YOU? I WILL ARREST YOU FOR WITHHOLDING INFORMATION, ASSHOLE!” The man looked like he could have died then and there. The only thing is, he did. He was lying on the ground, blood spewing from the front and back of his head and quickly and staining into the ground, glass digging into his head. The bullet had not hit Gavin, but it barely missed him. Unusually, he was extremely confused and surprised. Gavin had not expected that whatsoever. He ran to the smashed window where the bullet had entered, tearing through it like scissors on paper. The wind was blowing onto his face, hard. Sniper. This was slowly gathering speed downhill. Gavin was expecting some bad shit, but this? Fuck. Whoever constructed this project didn't want anyone to know about it. Gavin called 911.

 

***

 

 “So you didn’t get _anything_ out of him?”

“I told you, I was in there for about thirty seconds, he pissed me off, then he died. I was expecting to stay longer, but, clearly, I was unlucky. All I found out was that he worked on some bad shit. Seriously bad shit. Like, if-you-talk-about-it-you-die kinda shit.”

 “This is NOT A JOKE, REED! SOMEONE FUCKING DIED!” Gavin decided it was time to shut the fuck up. “I need you to find out as much as you possibly can,” Gavin rolled his eyes. “ _without_ complaint, about this Dechart character,”

 “Deckhart,” Gavin interrupted. Fowler glared at him.

“Deckhart… and have it for me by the end of the week. Everything that everything has on everything about him. DoD, FBI, Homeland, everything.” Gavin didn't know what to say. He had no fucking words left for anything. Nothing could make this hell of a day worse. He watched someone die in front of him and now he has to find out everything about him from the fucking FBI? He didn't want to see that asshole Perkins ever again. The Jackal, his ass. But he couldn't argue, could he?

 Gavin stood up and left, staring at the ground as he left, too angry to look at anyone in the eye. He was humiliated. He had seen one too many deaths in his life.

 Gavin’s mobile phone rang as he sat back down at his desk. That was unusual. About three people had his mobile number; Hank, who apparently had to go home sick; Mother, who never called him under any circumstance; Eli. Gavin hoped to God it was Hank. He was unfortunately unfortunate in that respect.

 “Hello?” Gavin didn't know who was going to speak, as he didn't assign names to his contacts and couldn't be bothered to remember the numbers.

 “Hey, Gavin! To be honest, I didn't expect you to pick up. You're at work, no?” Shit. Shit. Shit.

 “Hi, Eli. Yes I’m at work, and I’d quite like to do some work, so make it quick.”

 “Oh, always angry, Gavin. Cheer up! I was just wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight. Mother is coming over to celebrate 23 years of Cyberlife! It isn't really a super important milestone, but I care about it, I really do. So come along this Friday, maybe?”

 “Eli… come on…” Gavin was extraordinarily reluctant. Go to a fucking party? Him? Not to mention, a Cyberlife party? To Eli’s house, no less? No. Absolutely not.

 “Oh, Gavin! C’mon, It’ll be fun! I’ve got a big announcement too!” He said this last bit like a fucking kid. Singsong-like.

 Gavin absolutely fucking despised Eli. Hatred was all he felt for him, nothing else. No brotherly love, no affection, no respect. Hatred. Even when he was so fucking charitable and “gifted” Gavin his home. Little did Mother or Father know, he paid some fucking crap rent, as demanded by Eli. What a fucking piece of fucking shit.

 Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

 “Do I have a fucking choice, Eli?” Gavin already knew the answer to this question and he truly had no idea why he asked it.

 “No, of course not, Gavin. You’re on the list. So. You’re coming.” Eli left gaps between words in sentences sometimes, and honestly, it really pissed Gavin off. Why couldn't he just be a normal person and speak properly? Eli always had to be such a fucking weirdo. Back in, what, 2025? Eli decided to make those fucking sex robots, not for clubs like the Eden Club, but for himself. He was such a fucking weirdo.

 “Fine. When?” Gavin had decided to only dignify Eli with short responses at this point.

 “Fine, when? You could at least be a little nicer to your big brother, maybe? Show some… uhhh… respect.” Gavin could imagine Eli gesturing with his hands, waving them around like he was in a fucking TED Talk, spinning his hand round and round as he said ‘uuuuh.’ Eli was so fucking pretentious. His TED Talk was really bad, too. He kept talking about fucking Chloe, how it took him years to perfect her, and how it made him so fucking rich he’s just living the fucking good life in his giant fucking house and how ‘anyone can do anything.’ What a fucking prick.

 “I will only be able to show up to this fucking twat party if you tell me when it happens, Eli. So tell me when it happens.”

 “9 o’clock. Sharp. Don't be late.”

The fucking party was shit. Gavin didn't know anyone there and there was no ‘special announcement’ as previously mentioned by Eli. Unless saying that he had been selected for an award was in anyway ‘special.’ He was selected for awards every other day and he didn't have a dinner party for every one of them. _Maybe he does,_ Gavin thought, _he just doesn't invite me._ Why would he? Gavin was only his big brother, not a fucking business partner who, for obvious reasons, was far dearer to his heart. Gavin was pissed off. Even the fucking food was bad. Tiny, discoloured prices of fish lay on a plate, seeping disgusting juices that soaked into the bread and cheese next to them. Gavin decided to eat at home. Mother was there, but she far too interested in Eli to talk to Gavin. He was alone. No one around him acknowledged his presence, not even – especially not – Eli, who had invited him in the first place. Gavin decided to do some wandering around the house. It was large, and Eli had specifically said, ‘Make yourself at home,’ so Gavin decided that he would. He would start upstairs.

Upstairs was ugly. Eli had moved recently and decided to live in a fucking mansion, with chandeliers and marble floors and staircases with red rugs cascading down and flowing around the house. It was far too much. Gavin thought that Eli preferred more modern houses. Unconventional shapes and giant swimming pools and _white_. Apparently, this was also his thing and he quite enjoyed his life here. Gavin didn't believe a word. He probably moved here because it got him even further away from Detroit. Android-free, sad,  dirty, nobody-on-the-streets, economical-crisis-in-progress Detroit, and it was the only place he could find. Gavin would bet money that Eli hated his own home. Living alone? Eli approved. In a big house? Eli approved. Chandeliers? Eli disapproved. Fucking Ballrooms? Eli disapproved. Cascading red carpets? Eli disapproved. He had voiced his opinion many times in childhood about how much he ‘Will always hate mansions.’ He was just scared of his mistakes. Scared to face Detroit. He had been since the revolution. His machines? Failing? No, no, no, that wasn't his problem. He will never return to Detroit.

Gavin found himself in Eli’s bedroom. He seemed to have arrived there self-consciously, without meaning to. Gavin turned to leave, but then he saw it. A folder. It had a code name, a word, then a digit. It was printed in bold letters on the front of it, clearly. Rapture9. Gavin hesitated. He stopped hesitating and took the folder hastily. He walked out of the door without saying goodbye to anyone at the party and got into his car and drove. He dove and drove and drove for hours. He had just committed a criminal offence. Him! A police officer, breaking the law. It was almost laughable. A police official disobeying the rules and laws set down by the government that he himself was paid to uphold. He kept on driving.

 

And he kept on driving.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! The next chapter will be out around this time next month, maybe earlier. See you then! 
> 
> EDIT: The next chapter will probably be published mid-November, as I was doing Inktober.
> 
> Also, just to say, Bryan Deckhart is supposed to be spelled like that, as it is just a nod to the real Bryan Dechart. Sorry if that confused anyone!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! If you have any feedback, mistakes you want me to fix, or any questions please just comment! As I said, I'll try to reply to all of them.


End file.
